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‘I just wanted to ask…did you have a chance to say goodbye to Minki?’
‘In a way…but it didn’t go well.’ He flushed slightly. ‘You probably know we had a sort of fling.’
‘Minki never talked about it, but it was obvious from her behaviour that she liked you. I’m a bit worried, because she left Munich without saying goodbye. It’s not like her.’
‘I think I may have upset her. I didn’t think Minki was the sort of girl to take love affairs so seriously. She seemed so independent – almost blasé.’
‘She always has been in the past, but I think she felt differently about you.’
‘I didn’t mean to hurt her – you must believe that. Can you tell her I’m sorry?’
‘Maybe you should tell her yourself.’
‘I tried yesterday, but she was upset and ran off. I should have gone after her. But I was worried that if I did, we’d just end up in bed together. I adore her you see, but the fact is, I’ve got a girl back home.’
Leila flushed with shock. ‘Someone important?’
‘Yes.’ Peter looked guiltily down at his shoes. ‘You disapprove…’
‘Well, I’m surprised – put it that way. I thought you were an honourable man, Peter.’
‘I am…or at least, I like to think I am.’ He dropped his briefcase on the floor and ran his hands through his hair. ‘It was wrong, I see that now. But I allowed myself to believe that an affair with Minki was all right – a transient thing that Mary, my fiancée, need never know about. But that was so selfish. I hadn’t considered Minki’s feelings in all this. I want you to know – I do care for Minki. I admit that at first I didn’t even like her, but, somehow, she bewitched me, and then things got out of hand.’
Leila felt a tinge of sympathy for Peter. She had observed how her friend had ensnared many men over the years, while displaying an air of indifference, which they interpreted as strength and lack of emotion. Nevertheless, Leila was surprised by Peter’s admission. Whether he loved Minki or not, to sleep with her when he had a girl back home was just wrong.
‘Look, Leila…I’ve got to leave Munich today. I’m getting the train to Paris this afternoon, and then travelling on to London. I’ll be back in New York in a couple of weeks. I genuinely feel very guilty about Minki. Will you talk to her for me, Leila, and try to explain things?’
‘I’ll try,’ said Leila. ‘But it won’t be easy.’
‘I feel terrible…she seemed so strong and untouchable, but I think it’s all just a mask.’
Leila nodded thoughtfully. ‘Look, Peter…you’d better go. I’ll write to her, and explain that you didn’t mean to upset her. I’m not sure what else we can do.’
Peter put down his briefcase, and kissed Leila on the cheek. ‘You’re a good friend. And good luck with your career – you have the makings of a fine journalist.’
In spite of her concern for her friend, Leila felt a sense of renewal and hope on her walk to work every morning – that her country had a chance to root out the evil that Hitler represented. Of course, there was still, and probably always would be, anti-Semitism. After all, Hitler’s followers had not disappeared, but they had, for now at least, been suppressed. As a young Jewish woman, Leila had to believe that her future as a journalist looked more promising than ever.
One evening towards the end of April, Leila and Viktor walked together in the Englischer Garten. The flower beds were filled with tulips, the trees were in their first flush, their leaves a bright, almost acidic green. Inhaling the scent of newly mown grass, Leila took Viktor’s hand in her own. She drew him towards her and kissed him.
‘What was that for?’ he asked.
‘For being the most wonderful man in the world.’
‘Hardly.’ He laughed. ‘I’m forty-one, have a bad back and a weak chest…what’s wonderful about that?’
‘You are also the most kind, patient, intelligent man I’ve ever met, and I love you.’
‘You do?’
‘You know I do. I’m sorry if I’ve been rather withdrawn over the last few months. The new job, the trial – there was so much to deal with, so much I needed to learn and understand. I had little space left for anything else. Forgive me?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’ He kissed her.
‘Do you remember a question you asked me…a few months ago?’
‘A question – what question?’ He frowned, as if struggling to remember.
‘Oh Viktor…you know…Thequestion – that I was too busy to consider?’
